The Floating Outfit 56 by J.T. Edson

Author:J.T. Edson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: the old west, apache indians, william w johnstone, piccadilly publishing, craig johnson, jt edson, dusty fog, best western ebook, western fiction ebook, floating outfit westerns
Publisher: Piccadilly

Chapter Eight – Night at Baptist’s Hollow

MAJOR ELLWOOD WAS in a vile mood when he returned to the jail with food for his prisoners. It was dark, and he was late in feeding the two men in the cells, but he’d just finished the exhausting task of getting his people to the rifle pits. It was a hard task, and only by being strenuously unpleasant was Ellwood able to get all the first party into position. Man after man had tried to think up an excuse to avoid doing his civic duty, but Ellwood ruled them all out and, by threatening to jail any absentee, drew his men. He knew he would probably have the same trouble with the second watch and did not relish going around in the middle of the night to find them.

One of the chief causes of complaint was that the miners were not forced to take on full responsibility for the defense of the town. It was typical of the mentality of the Baptist’s Hollow citizen that he thought those men from the hills should be forced to defend the town.

In all fairness Ellwood tried to get the miners interested in his idea, for all were good shots, cool and brave men. They would have stiffened his line of defense if they would agree to help out. Individually and collectively the miners refused to have any part in those holes in the ground. Ellwood might have read a sinister warning in the refusal, but he was in no mood to look beyond surface appearance. What he did know was that the miners were ready to leave town, chancing the open country, rather than fight in the rifle pits. That was the last thing he wanted. If Lobo Colorado and his men came, the miners would be a fighting force worth having.

Scully and Willy looked at the tray of food Ellwood brought to them. It was a decent meal and struck them both as an ominous sign. They were capable of putting two and two together and making the answer come out correct. The arrival of the miners, their lack of celebrating, taken with odd scraps of conversation from outside the jail, added up to one thing. Apache trouble in its worst form.

‘I hear you’ve got Apache trouble, Major,’ said Scully, as he took the tray through the slot in the bars. ‘Me’n Willy can both use a rifle. Be pleased to help.’

‘I bet you would,’ Ellwood snapped back. ‘If I let you out, you’d be gone before morning.’

‘With Apaches on the warpath, without horses—afoot?’ asked Scully, looking mildly reproving. ‘Marshal, I don’t like your stuffy, pious little town and wish to be out of it, never to return, but not at the moment. I’d go further. I’d rather be here than out there right now.’

Ellwood snorted. Suddenly he realized he was beginning to think and act like a citizen of Baptist’s Hollow, beginning to suspect every motive as being the worst. He felt suddenly sick

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